


house/cuddy 2

by romanticalgirl



Series: December Ficlets 2007 [20]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 15:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 12-19-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	house/cuddy 2

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 12-19-07

There are five stages of grief. Lisa Cuddy is well acquainted with all five, a few on a very intimate level. Everyone likes to imply that it’s her own fault for hiring House, that he, all by himself, is enough grief for anyone to handle, but she knows that at least half of their vitriol comes from pure jealousy that they don’t have House and that she’s got more balls than all of them put together because she was willing to take the risk.

She’s careful to stay away from depression, and really House keeps her from that. He keeps her on her toes, challenging him all the time, even if she eventually loses. And bargaining only ends with her agreeing to his demands. Denial and anger and acceptance are much more familiar, much more common. She’s not sure that plausible deniability works for the theoretical model, but it works for her, and for him. He doesn’t tell her things because he likes to pretend it will all fall back on him. 

He’s wrong, but it’s sweet nonetheless. Sometimes. Other times it’s barbed comments about who runs her hospital. Never mind the work that everyone else does. House is the only topic of conversation everyone feels like discussing.

House walks into her office like he owns it, and given the amount of time he spends in there, he probably should have communal property rights. He angles himself on her desk, his leg brushing hers as he swings it. She looks up at him, knowing eyes to meet his knowing smile. She reaches out and brushes her hand over his leg, feeling the tenseness in him, the lack of reaction. She knows how hard to press before it hurts, knows where the point is when he feels a burst of pleasure before the pain.

“What do I have to pretend I don’t know today?”

He shakes his head and catches her chin with his hand, raising it and smiling at her. Still knowing. He knows too goddamn much. “Nothing.”

She shakes her head, not slipping free of his light touch. “Liar.”


End file.
